


Quite The Change

by griddle



Series: INTO THE DAY: Day6 Neighborhood AU [1]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15226986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griddle/pseuds/griddle
Summary: If there's anything new for Jae, is that suddenly, the house besides his is occupied.Jae never really had a neighbor- nobody really occupied the house next to his. He doesn't know why either. Life is good, he's used to it, except for this sudden change he didn't expect.





	Quite The Change

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a oneshot lmao, altho i'm not sure if A. I should do a POV for youngk and B. I should do a spin-off for dopil and C. a POV just for park sungjin, a whole man responsible for his life and his members (even in this fic)
> 
> EDIT: THE DOPIL COMPANION IS UP
> 
> find me at twt:@yuqq_puqq  
> cc:@yuqq_puqq

If there’s anything new for Jae, it’s that suddenly, the house besides his is occupied.

  
It was the early mornings- dawn, but not really- and Jae just logged out of Twitter. He got the urge for water, heading to his kitchen, and almost spitting his drink when he saw the lights next door are turned on.

  
_**What the fuck?**_ He thought, scrambling back to his bed to fetch his phone. What the actual fuck?  
One ring, two rings, six. Jae shouts when it picks.  
“ **Sungjin**!”  
“Jae, why are you calling dead in the morning? You’re the only one awake during 4 A.M.”  
“Sungjin, that’s not the reason why I called you.”  
There’s a shuffle at the other end, a litany of curses and a knot of words. “What is it?”  
“I think the house next door is haunted.”  
_Pause_.

And then Sungjin had the audacity to laugh out loud, almost as if mocking Jae.

  
“What’s wrong,” Jae frowns.  
“Jae you idiot, that’s not a ghost. It’s your new neighbor.”

  
“ _My new what now?”_

  
“Someone moved in just about a week ago. I’m surprised you haven’t caught on.”  
“Sungjin, have you forgotten I visited my parents during said week?”  
“Yeah, and you should’ve at least noticed by now, because apparently a fresh lawn and refurbished house is a sign of life.”

  
Jae groans, feeling his stupidity claw him alive.

  
“Okay, okay. Thanks. I’m gonna sleep again.”  
“Jesus christ, Jae. Sometimes I wonder how come you graduated as the top of your Political Science class.”

  
At that, the line went dead, leaving Jae alone to wonder who’s next door, how are they supposed to interact, and asking himself the same question Sungjin voiced.

  
_What great timing. What universal coincidence this is,_ Jae huffs, folding himself back to sleep, back to his dreams.

* * *

  
Their first encounter went like this: both Jae and his neighbor, whoever might that be, got out of their respective houses at the same time- Jae about to walk to the local bakeshop, and the neighbor seemingly heading for his mailbox.

  
And then they came face-to-face with each other, a mirror of surprise.

  
His neighbor was shorter than him by a few inches- not that a lot of people reaches his height. But the guy was built, broad where Jae was frail, more rounded where Jae was just full of sharp edges. His eyes slit upwards, black hair curling around his face.

  
For a moment, Jae thought he’s about to be murdered. His neighbor’s face was just too intimidating. Enough to send him running.

_But was it intimidating, or stunning?_

He better shake out that thought before considering having a pretty glare chop down his life.

  
No one spoke-just silence stretched between the two of them.

Jae’s burning alive in his sweatpants and ratty shirt, feeling like he should go back inside because the stranger next door, despite his glare, outshines extraordinarily, even in a simple outfit.

  
_I’m just going to buy bread, damn it. I’m just going to the bakeshop, not a fucking fashion show._

* * *

  
“Dowoon,” Jae starts, recalling the memory. He fiddles with the bag of loaf, rolls it tentatively. The baker in question turns around.  
“Yes?”  
“How did you first start conversation with Wonpil?”

  
Dowoon is immediately as red as the strawberry jam he sells, hands flying and words choking the very air he breathes.  
“ _ **What’s with the sudden question?”**_ he covers up, coughing, trying to calm himself down. Jae doesn’t seem to notice, too bothered by his new situation of social interaction.

  
“It’s just,” Jae shrugs. “Well I have a new neighbor, and I’m not used to it. Remember how that house besides mine used to be so empty you could hear the wind pass through it? No one really occupied it **for years,** and I was beginning to think no one really lived there. They just built a house and left." Jae sighs mid-rant. "Now, I guess the wind brought a person along.”

  
Another customer came in, Dowoon preparing their order, entertaining them. It took awhile before he answered.

  
“Well, it’s awkward. I’m not a person who talks too much. I used to go to Wonpil’s flower shop and just stand inside, looking like a literal plant. It lasted for a month before I even got a ‘hi’ out.”

  
Jae scrunches his nose at the memory, chuckling fondly. “Yeah, I sure remember that. Come to think of it, you’re the last person I should ask on this topic.”

  
“Hey, Jae hyung, that’s unfair. It’s already a sad situation for me to be called ‘dough-woon’ by Wonpil.”  
Jae snorts at the nickname, not helping with Dowoon’s growing embarrassment.

  
“I surely will remember that,” Jae says.

* * *

  
The second encounter was less awkward, less confrontational, but more intimate.

Jae’s editor, Bernard, called to see if Jae had finished his novel draft.

  
“The publishing company wants it in by the span of four months,” Bernard supplies. Jae groans, already poised in front of his computer. His office is built in his home, lounging at his house's second floor, wide windows overlooking his front lawn.

  
“I call bullshit.”  
“It is.” Jae does a double-take, squinting at the phone before placing it back near his ear.  
“Wow, Bernard. You agreeing to what I said? I better panic right now.”  
“Aren’t we?”  
“Good point.”

  
There’s a shuffle of papers. Someone called Bernard’s name. Jae could almost see himself inside Bernard’s office, feel it how it cuts off his breath.

_And he told Bernard to work at home as well. But, he insisted._

  
“Anyway, Bernard. I’m about to finish the manuscript. I’ll send it in three weeks.”  
“Thanks, Jae.” Bernard sounded like deadweight lifted off his shoulders, a chokehold loosening. “Thanks. I can always trust you.”

  
The nerves inside Jae’s brain is sparking with fire, alight- it’s one thing to publish a book. It’s another thing for your company to demand you content so they can also profit.

_**Money mongrels.** _

Jae's tempted to do a slapsticked, low quality, bleached grammar, who-cares-about-content type of book now.  _Very tempted._ But, for the sake of the art (and his dignity as a writer), he better not.

* * *

  
Thirty minutes into typing, the whisper of the breeze picks up a tune – faltering, returning, vanishing. Jae perks from his desk, overlooking the window just to the left of his workspace. _Who is it?_

  
The melody strengthens, gains confidence, a strum of harmonies found in an acoustic guitar. Jae found himself swaying to the tune, tensed shoulders relaxing, mind drifting off.

  
Jae looks down his window, down the second floor of his house, across his fence, and sees his neighbor quietly singing, accompanying it with a few strums with said guitar in hand.

  
_I shouldn’t disturb him,_ Jae thought, folding his arms on the windowsill and letting his head rest there.

  
His voice- _no it’s not honey, it’s more like water. It rushes, crystal clear. Sometimes it roars like the ocean. Sometimes it gurgles like a spring._

  
That afternoon, Jae fell asleep to a lullaby, forgetting about his work, forgetting about the rush and stress of his company’s demands.

* * *

  
Jae wouldn’t admit it, but since then, every time he would chance his neighbor playing, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing and listen- take his time, and then return to his routine.

* * *

  
Around the third time, they’re finally acquainted, albeit delayed and sort of messy.

  
Jae was out of his house earlier, wearing checkered shorts and a green shirt. It’s time to shop for groceries, time to replenish his supplies. It’s not fun to work at home when all the food went down the drain.

  
At first, he didn’t pay to mind that his neighbor emerged the same time he did. He didn’t pay attention when he and his neighbor went down the exact same road. It’s morning. _Why would anyone have this kind of coincidence so early?_

  
Jae’s nerves got the better of him.

  
“ _Why are you stalking me!?”_ he hisses, turning around to face his neighbor. Said offender skids to a full stop, crashing into Jae’s bony frame. He looks up, confused, plucks out his earphones.

 _ **"Are you following me?"**_ he spats, less venom, more tension.  
“Excuse me?” his neighbor says. “I’m not stalking you. I’m heading for the supermarket.”

  
Then Jae feels like he wants to dissolve into nonexistence. If Thanos had to pick who to erase between the two of them, Jae would volunteer in a heartbeat.

  
“Well, that’s weird. I’m heading there, too.”  
Jae watched the man’s face morph in a 'lil but of shock, but no more.

He looked too cool in his get-up, no matter how it’s just casual. He’s not even out of his pajama bottoms, deciding to top its navy blue color with a white shirt.

Scratch that. The pair of them look like hobos with the smallest sense of fashion.( ~~it doesn't make Jae feel any better).~~

  
Before the man decided to speak, Jae has words already out of his mouth: “ _wanna go there together?”_

* * *

  
After that, things fell into place. They’re two puzzle pieces meant to join, two chain links meant to connect.

  
Jae makes a lot of jokes, mispronounces the brand names, makes bad intonation of the food. His neighbor laughs freely, even has some jokes of the same  ~~poor~~ quality of Jae’s.

It’s surprisingly easy for the two of them to talk. No need to finish each other’s sentences, they speak the words the other is just about to eat up.

If Jae knew it was this easy to be friends with his neighbor, he wouldn’t have taken an  _ **infinity**_ before finally saying anything ( ~~but compared to Dowoon’s progress, this one’s better).~~

  
Their carts collide into each other multiple times, until Jae, exasperated, says they’ll just share one, large, cart. Jae’s groceries are pushed at the right, his neighbor’s to the left. Jae had to chastise his neighbor:

  
“ _Why are you getting that much food_?” he laughs. His neighbor reaches for the sixth pack of noodles, looking back at Jae like he grew a second head.

  
“ _ **Are you kidding me?**_ ” his neighbor straightens, his sharp eyes back, twinkly irises gone. Jae gulps, thinking back to which moment he fucked up, re-evaluating and shuffling every time he opened his mouth.

_The headline for tomorrow is: Local Man Murdered After Commenting On Neighbor's Eating Habits_

  
He hears a snicker, Jae's braves to look, and is greeted by the sight of his neighbor ridiculing him. Honestly, Jae might’ve actually slapped that funny look off his neighbor’s face if he wasn’t so offensively good-looking.

  
“I’m a hungry man,” his neighbor explains, patting his stomach. “To grow is to eat.”

  
They move on the next aisle, his neighbor choosing which coffee brand is the best and the cheapest, unaware of Jae taking note of his favorites, specifically the brand of ramen noodles at the left side of the cart.

* * *

  
It’s nearly lunch by the time they’re done shopping, each walking back down the same road. They’re carrying their grocery bags.

  
Back at the supermarket, his neighbor slyly added one or two mint packs to Jae’s items. It’s too late when the latter noticed.

The mint packs were already scanned, and all he can do was to pay for it and block out his neighbor’s half-assed “ _I don’t have enough money”_ apology. Jae looks back at Sungjin, the supermarket’s owner (family-owned, inherited, more like) and Sungjin finally gave in to take it on the tab.  
“ **You better pay for it tomorrow or later!** ” Sungjin calls, Jae waving behind his back as he and his neighbor exits.

  
Right now, Jae’s not sure whether he likes his neighbor or not, especially when said neighbor is doing extensive means to appeal to Jae- one of which is to do cutesy gestures.  
“Please, stop,” Jae says, almost begging for mercy, walking faster away. His neighbor easily follows.

  
“I won’t stop until I have my mints!”  
“How are these your mints when I paid for them?”  
“Uh…” his neighbor stutters, falters. “ _Uh_.”  
“See?” Jae points, shuffling the bags in his arms.  
“But! I just want my mints!” his neighbor starts and stops, almost whining at the thought of losing candy.

Jae gives up, ultimately fishing for the said mints and throwing it at his neighbor’s direction.  
“Damn, chill. Here—” Jae’s neighbor catches the mints. “Okay, stop. Just? Really? _Cute_? You remind me of a friend and it’s- just **_no_** , okay?”

  
The same silence passes between them the first time they saw each other across lawns, but now it’s comfortable. It doesn't render them clueless on what to say next. It flows, caressing the two of them, fills space and leaves it like that.

  
“I’ll pay back, I promise. It’s just mints,” his neighbor says. At this, Jae grins.  
“You would’ve have enough money if you didn’t keep on plucking food off the aisles.”  
“Hey!” his neighbor groans. “ ** _Foul_**!” Even so, Jae’s raucous laughter drives on the street, making the occasional passerby stop and stare.

  
“I _**swear**_ ,” he breathes in between, “you occupied the cart space more than I did!”  
“Oh yeah? Newsflash: **_you’re_** the one loading the cart with everything chicken-related.”

And it’s too much for the both of them, because Jae’s neighbor joins in, the two of them laughing at all the little jokes they make, at all the little things they noticed about each other.

* * *

  
They arrive at their houses sooner than expected. Neither of them knew what to do, standing offish at the front of their own doors.

  
Jae puts down his bags of groceries, heads over the fence dividing their lawns, leans.

_Not sure about this, but here goes nothing._

  
“It’s too late to ask this, but what’s your name?”  
Jae saw his neighbor smile, then let down their grocery bags.  
“I’m Brian.” Jae grins, full of teeth and his small eyes almost two tiny dots.  
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jae.”

  
Jae was already walking back to his house, three beats and a moment, when he heard his name called out.

  
“ **Jae**!”

  
He turns around, key already jutted in his doorknob. He spots Brian leaning over the fence, hand cupped around his mouth.

  
“it’s too late to ask this, but wanna have lunch over here? It’s about time, anyways.”  
“Is this payment? Or do you want another pack of mints?” Jae scoffs, trying and failing to keep his giddiness out of his voice.

Brian leans out, shaking his head as he walks back to his house.

“You’ll see!” he answers, before waving goodbye and closing the door, Jae resisting the weird urge to follow after.

* * *

  
If there’s anything new to Jae, it’s Brian.

  
Brian who cooked amazing food during the first time he went over Brian’s house for lunch; Brian who kept cooking lunch for the two of them ever since; Brian, who plays the sweetest songs with his guitar; Brian, who sings with the most wonderful voice Jae heard; Brian, who has the same lame humor as Jae.

Brian, who, for whatever reason, picked up Jae’s habit of speaking to himself, speaking in sleep (must be the times Jae accidentally naps on Brian’s dining table).

  
It’s the Brian who sits by Jae’s porch while Jae does his manuscript, the same Brian who suggests a few tweaks to Jae’s plot, putting new ideas, some plot twists, mending plot holes Jae thought he’ll be forever stuck in.

It’s the same Brian who dished down dinner the first time Jae invited him over (then asking for three servings more), the same Brian who watches random sitcom.

It’s the same Brian who told Jae that he actually has a good singing voice during that time Jae mumbled to Brian’s song. It’s the same Brian with whom Jae helps compose lyrics, because apparently, his neighbor is a singer – no different from his profession, just added music.

Sometimes, Jae wonders if Brian came by earlier, if the house beside his was occupied the same time he occupied his. Then maybe, all these years he wouldn't have been used to its silence, its eerie winds and unnerving creaks. Then maybe he wouldn't keep looking out of his fence before, then resigning to never having a neighbor, getting used to be alone at this end of his neighborhood.

_But maybe, it's perfect timing. Maybe, it's just a coincidence. Maybe it's like one of those plottwists in his novel— getting thrown in a situation you're used to._

* * *

  
And then, it’s nothing new.

Months passed, until they built themselves into a couple of years thrown down the placid river, but they never passed each other.

There’s two of them going to Dowoon’s bakeshop to buy some bread ( _poor boy still has no progress, even if Brian offered some help to serenade Wonpil)._ They’re together every time they go grocery shopping, Sungjin clicking his tongue in disappointment. He says they spell trouble, but lets them be.

Sometimes, they’ll visit Wonpil in his flower shop ( ** _“Is he the one I remind you of when I was acting cute?” Brian asks, and Jae nods his head. Brian turns and does a low whistle, almost embarassing Wonpil. “Damn, I see why Dowoon crushes on you hard. You’re cute even without trying.”)._**

  
Somehow, along the way, they went from holding each other’s grocery bags to holding each other’s hands, from visiting to staying over, from doings things together to basically sharing stuff, from jokingly saying “I love you” across the lawn to Brian accidentally confessing.

* * *

  
It was during one night when both of them can’t sleep, so they decide to open their windows and talk right across each other. _What difference does it make?_ They still face each other, just a few feet away, and can hear their words well.

  
The moon was in half, and the stars as bright as jewels glittering on a velvet blanket.  
“Maybe you do love me. You won’t be as happy as now without me as your neighbor,” Jae jokes, eating another chip, munching.

  
**“I do love you.”**

  
With the way Brian said it, the weight of the words rattling Jae’s heart in his ribcage, the way Brian flushed after realizing what he said, was when it dawned upon Jae that yes, Jae loves him, too.

  
_There’s no other constant for him in his life and the next._

  
“I’m- **_what_**.” Brian spills his apology in shame, not sure how to recover. Jae’s already standing, dusting off crumbs out of his pajamas. He watched from the corner of his eyes how Brian paled, Jae thinking of Brian thinking the worst.

  
But it’s never the worst that’s coming- Jae stops Brian before he gets ahead.  
**“I love you, too.”**

  
Clear-cut, straightforward, chin jutted forward as if challenging Brian to contest him. For Jae, there’s no other way to say it than the way he did: honestly, all admissions out in the open, all flaws ready to be shot.

  
“I didn’t stamp in my brain your favorite ramen brand if I don’t have feelings for you, you know.” then, awhile later: “ _ **wow**_ , I should’ve realized earlier I was whipped.”

  
“Yeah?” Brian answers, voice shaky, quietly laughing. “God, I’m glad you feel the same way. I thought I almost risked our friendship. Let's pretend I didn't take note of your allergies so I could buy you medicine when you can't.—..."

 

Followed by one, two, three sniffles, a tear rolling down Brian’s cheek, then Brian profusely wiping off those said tears.

  
“Oh no, _BriBri_ —” Jae cuts in, slipping out the nickname Brian was already accustomed to, albeit weirded out in the beginning. “I’ll come over, don’t cry.”

* * *

  
The doorbell sounds in a few seconds, and Jae envelopes Brian in the warmest hug he could ever have. Brian pours a paragraph of apologies, but Jae punctuates it with hushes. It’s okay, it’s okay- Jae reassures. They both love each other, both fools to only realize it later on.

  
The two of them fall asleep on Brian’s couch due to exhaustion- Jae’s hand threaded in Brian’s hair, the other around Brian’s waist. Brian huddled up against Jae, broader but smaller, on top of the taller man and cushioning himself against the steady beat of Jae’s heartbeat.

* * *

  
Maybe they should’ve realized it the day they struck each other across their lawns- they’re meant to be next to each other, two-in-one deal, hand-in-hand until the end.

Maybe, as Jae thought, it shouldn't have taken him three long encounters before he could actually speak with the fox-eyed man.

Maybe, as Brian thought, he should've known more of his absent neighbor— who, appeared a week later he moved in, took them a span of a few months to properly talk, and had his life spun to a different direction.

They should’ve realized it the next morning:

Jae finding himself at home in Brian’s kitchen, Brian setting the table. Neither of them needs communication- they understood, in their matching movements, swinging like smooth jazz music.

They’re meant to be **JaeandBrian** , without any space in between, without any distance to separate.

 

 


End file.
